Unnamed
by Confiscated Retina
Summary: She dies, of course, as many soldiers are wont to do.


**A/N:** In the end, I couldn't resist. I think this is the first piece of legit, actual fan character fiction I've ever written. If you're not familiar with the comic "Ava's Demon", I'd love to know how this reads by itself. If you are familiar with "Ava's Demon"...yes, my fan character is one of the native-born TITAN species, because I'm terrible. :D The comic may eventually disprove all of this, but it's fun for now. :)

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**Unnamed**

She dies, of course, as many soldiers are wont to do.

It's not supposed to happen. By circumstance of birth she is blessed and a high-ranking officer. It is sheer misfortune that sends a photon bullet through her unguarded head, right between the eyes.

Before her body even hits the ground her suit enables the cool-down program, preserving her vital functions and minimizing damage. Because she is blessed, a medic team rushes her chilled corpse away within half an hour, her dislocated spirit trailing behind.

When she wakes he is hovering at the corner of her perception, staining the sterile hospital room with his vivid presence. When she tries to get a better look at him he drifts away, dissipating like smoke.

There's no scar. When she is left alone to rest, the lights overhead dimmed almost to nothing, she brushes a finger between her eyes.

"I might have liked a scar," she whispers.

"It would have suited you," his voice drifts through her ears.

That morning she informs the medics that something appears to have gone wrong and she's hearing voices, seeing things. A thorough examination is done and there are no errors. Of course there wouldn't be. How silly and heretical of her to think such things.

Some weeks later it startles her to realize that her name is gone. She knows she had one before her death, but she cannot recall what it might have been.

"They took it," he says, floating idly on his back over her head.

"When?"

"While you were dead."

"Oh." She follows his lazy orbit with her eyes. "Do you have a name?"

"I don't remember. I'm sure it'll come back if it's important."

This logic matches her own. She shrugs and continues her work, wondering vaguely if she will ever be given a new name. Maybe if she works hard enough she can somehow erase the shame of one unintentionally fatal error.

A year passes. One morning she happens to glance at her face in a reflective surface and sees an imperfection. Between her eyes is a puckered lump of scar tissue. She brushes smooth skin with her fingers.

"Am I going insane?" her voice is calm.

"No," he hovers over her shoulder. "You said you might have liked a scar. I can take it away."

Her eyes crinkle in a smile. "I like it."

A handful of years more pass. The vague tickle of curiosity she has ignored twitches back into her consciousness one night as he drifts, his head dangling upside down.

"I think I remember something important," he says.

She tilts her head encouragingly.

"I don't have to tell you. Knowing may jeopardize your existence."

She considers and remembers that she has been demoted, a once-great commander now serving among the ranks of the nameless. "I don't mind."

"She was a magnificent empress," his gaze is distant.

"Tell me about her."

He does and she sounds wonderful in all the ways her existence has never been. It makes her think and dredges up a vague memory of the conflict in which she died.

"The tag on the poison's bottle said my name and 'revenge'," he finishes with a shrug. "So, if there's something you want, I can give it to you."

"I'll think about it."

And she does, for many years. Her routine goes unchanged, her work unremarked upon, her quiet and nameless shame ignored by all, herself included. His spirit orbits her consciousness, patiently waiting. Any time she passes her reflection and cares to look, she sees the only thing that distinguishes her from her peers: an invisible scar.

"I know what I want now," she murmurs to a star speckled sky on a foreign planet.

He swims into her field of view. "Anything."

"A name."

"That's all?"

She considers. "A good one."

"And?"

"Two names. Mine, and yours. It seems only fair."

"That's it?"

She shrugs. "It's the only thing I've ever wanted."

He reaches for her with one hand, smiling, and their souls combine.

When all is done, she is unexpectedly alone. A knowing smile pulls at her mouth as she turns to go inside. Without a touch, the door swings open and closes itself behind her.

"Interesting," she muses.

He is waiting for her in her dreams. "And?"

Her smile is radiant. "It's perfect. You?"

He can't help but smile in return. "I didn't know how much I had missed it."

They share a few moments of companionable silence.

"Well," he says at length. "Shall we begin making plans?"

She has already committed blasphemy. Surely treason is a less egregious sin.

"Yes, let's."


End file.
